I'm Living Lonely
by Nightcrawlerlover
Summary: Oneshot. Miley dances to the instrumental version of Stranger in Moscow by Michael Jackson. What happens when Michael himself finds her at it?


**Here's a new oneshot I cooked up while listening to "Stranger in Moscow" by Michael Jackson. And I got to wondering... what if Miley Cyrus was caught dancing to the song – by the King of Pop himself? So, this is what I came up with. **

**Plus, I think that if Miley had met Michael, maybe in either 2002 or 2003, she would've been amazed at how he could move, dance, sing and simply just have this charisma with the girls and women. He would've smiled at her if he locked eyes with her. **

**I'm Living Lonely**

It was Saturday afternoon in Los Angeles, California. Miley Cyrus, sixteen, a purple pen in her left hand, was looking down at the empty page of the notebook in her right hand. Somehow to her, that page looked the exact same way she felt – blank. She didn't exactly feel... inspired.

Then she turned her gaze to the stereo, and smiled. Setting her notebook and pen aside, she walked over to the stereo and turned it on. After setting the volume to the right level so that only she could hear it, Miley then pressed the button that switched CD tracks until she came to 6, and then pressed Play.

Instantly, the instrumental version of the song "Stranger in Moscow" by Michael Jackson began playing. Listening to it, Miley's eyes widened, and she felt the rhythm began to flow right through her. With that, she began to dance, spinning around like a ballerina. Then she stopped with her toes pointed exactly how Michael himself would look. Then, after the song ended, Miley switched tracks until the version of "Stranger in Moscow" with Michael singing began playing.

She had always loved Michael Jackson ever since she had first heard of him back in 2003. When his child molestation trial was aired on the news, Miley fiercely defended him, not realizing that he was somehow able to hear her, no matter where she was.

When Michael had first heard the name Miley Cyrus, he instantly knew who she was, and her famous father as well. He had read her book "Miles to Go", and was shocked and angry at how badly she was treated by those mean girls when she was in sixth grade.

"_I will listen to you tonight, Miley," _he whispered as he left for Los Angeles, California, where he knew Miley was staying. _"I will comfort you."_

Now, here he was, watching her from the doorway as Miley, not knowing he was watching, knelt and removed her black fedora as the last notes of his song "Stranger in Moscow" faded into the air.

"_How does it feel (How does it feel)  
How does it feel  
How does it feel  
How does it feel  
How does it feel (How does it feel now)  
How does it feel  
How does it feel  
When you're alone  
And you're cold inside_

_Like stranger in Moscow  
Lord have mercy  
Like stranger in Moscow  
Lord have mercy  
We're talkin' danger  
We're talkin' danger, baby  
Like stranger in Moscow  
We're talkin' danger  
We're talkin' danger, baby  
Like stranger in Moscow  
I'm livin' lonely  
I'm livin' lonely, baby  
Stranger in Moscow _

_I'm livin' lonely  
I'm livin' lonely, baby  
Stranger in Moscow"_

Feeling good all over, Michael simply stood there for a moment, smiling. He believed that her dance had inspired him, and enraptured him as well. And he liked that... a lot. He always had a liking for his fans whenever they showed him how they learned to dance and simply move across the floor just like him.

Then he said,

"Miley, that was beautiful."

Miley looked up and said as Michael walked over to her,

"Thanks, Michael. I didn't realize you were-"

She stopped in mid-sentence as her eyes widened as he stopped in front of her and she looked up at him. Michael was wearing a purple button-up shirt with buttons on the shirtsleeves, black pants, white socks and black penny loafers. His black hair was smooth, clean and silky, and smelled like strawberries.

Michael nodded. He knew exactly what she meant.

He then purred,

"I can see it shows in my looks."

Feeling flushed, Miley lowered her eyes, hoping she hadn't been staring too long at him. Michael then knelt, reached under her chin and tipped it up, causing her to look into those beautiful brown eyes. She had heard many women call Michael "deep", "full of beauty", "passionate" and "mysterious" whenever they talked about what it was about him that attracted them. Some said it was his hair, black like the raven's wings. Others said it was his voice – deep whenever he spoke, and high whenever he sang.

Still some said it was the air of confidence and aura of being magical that he had in him ever since they saw him in the video for "Stranger in Moscow".

Still others said they were attracted to Michael's sense of style. Whether it was the black penny loafers, the black fedora, the red shirt with button-up shirtsleeves, the black jeans, the white socks or the one rhinestone glove, they all agreed in their belief that Michael looked so handsome and good-looking no matter what he wore.

Miley blushed a bit and smiled as he gently caressed her cheek. Then, after getting to his feet, he reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet. After releasing her hand, he reached with his other hand over to the stereo and pressed the button for switching tracks until he came to track number 6 and pressed Play.

Instantly, the instrumental version of the same song began playing, filling the room with its beautiful, melodious notes.

Michael then turned to Miley and asked,

"Dance with me?"

He then held his right hand out to her, and Miley, smiling shyly, took it in hers.

Soon, they began to dance as Stranger in Moscow played. Miley thought she could relate to Michael when it came to feeling like you were the only one in the world, even though there are others around you.

As Michael twirled her around and out, and then pulled her back in, Miley felt as though she was on top of the world – or cloud nine, at least. She wasn't sure which, though.

Maybe it was a little bit of both.

**Well, I hope you like this oneshot as much as I liked writing it. After all, this kind of fiction – namely the kind where the characters and worlds are already thought up for you and all you have to do is play around with them a little – is pretty neat, in my opinion. :)**

**~Nightcrawlerlover**


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